Here Be Monsters
by Nymphean
Summary: A story about the Black family, told from the contrasting perspectives of the three sisters. Their childhood, their closeness and their isolation. The sensual and the macabre abound. Feel good fic of the century (not).
1. Andromeda

A/N: A new one. The mysterious and dark Black family has been poking at the back of my brain since finishing _Phoenix_, and so I did the only reasonable thing and wrote a fic. It's going to be in three parts, one for each Black sister, starting with Andromeda. I've screwed around a bit with ages and such, since I really had no idea who was what age. It's going to be darker than the rest of my fics, and I'm sure many of you won't like it. There will be some allusions to Narcissa/Bellatrix, although it won't be blatant, and it's more control-driven than anything else. I think it's one of the best I've written so far. Hopefully you'll agree.

Andromeda's section is only going to be one chapter. Bellatrix and Narcissa's will be significantly longer, due solely to their relative importance compared with their sister. Let's face it: besides being Tonks' mother, who really cares about Andromeda? I honestly don't know how long this will be, but so far it's 12000 words, and it's nowhere near winding down yet. So settle in, it's going to be a long ride.

I hope you enjoy it… it's so much fun to write this family. They're so… _Black._

Have fun!

-N

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! JESUS!

Here Be Monsters

Part 1- Andromeda

I was the first in my family to break free. Before me, all of the members of the noble and most ancient house of Black, whether willingly or unwillingly, knew that their role was to support the darker side, and to keep any objections they might have quiet. And then there was me.

I was the first child to be born of my mother, the formidable Elladora Black, and, as far as I'm concerned, should have been the last. My sisters' lives should have been stilled before ever leaving the womb. Their births were a curse, though I was too young then to know it. A curse on the world, and on me.

I never got along well with Bellatrix. A child is too young to recognize distrust, but when I was older I came to realize that I could not trust my sister, and that I had never been able to. I was two years old at the time of her birth, and from the moment she was born she caused me nothing but misery. My mother dismissed my childhood dislike of my younger sister as jealousy, as sibling rivalry. She remarked to my father that I was too selfish, and would need to adjust to having to share things with other people. My father, as was the norm with the men of the Black family, ignored her, my sister and me completely. Bellatrix and I were like opposites, and yet we were expected to fit into the same mold; that of the loyal, subservient women that the Black family had been churning out for centuries. Women who were cunning to an almost lethal degree, but who knew their place around their husbands. Women with cold, unfeeling hearts, who would get married at a ridiculously young age to a second or, sometimes, a first cousin in order to keep the family "clean". Incest was common amongst the members of the noble and most ancient house of Black, although we had other names for it and rarely discussed the possible flaws in our sick little system. But as it turned out, Bellatrix would be the only one of the two of us to fit this mold. I would be the one to break it.

Narcissa was born five years after Bellatrix, the result of an accident brought upon my mother by my father's unruly temper and his fondness for the drink. My mother did not dote upon Narcissa as she had Bellatrix, and I felt sorry for my younger sister. Narcissa became my baby. When my mother wasn't around, which by this point in our lives was quite often, I became her mother. I loved the little waif of a girl as if it were my own undeveloped womb that had produced her. I loved Narcissa so dearly, perhaps, because she was the opposite of Bella; where Bella was dark, Narcissa was light, where Bella's laugh was hard and cruel, Narcissa's was young and fresh and innocent. Narcissa was Pure. Not in the way that our family valued so deeply, but really, truly pure. She was _my_ child. And then Bellatrix stole her away from me.

I had always known of Bella's jealously over my relationship with Narcissa. There were three of us, and although she fit in perfectly with the rest of the family, between the three of us Bellatrix was the outcast. I was bringing Narcissa up the way _I _saw fit, and Bellatrix did not like it at all. In fact, she hated it. Which only made me more determined to shield Narcissa from her. In the end, this was my downfall.

We, as human beings, are often fascinated by the things that we are kept separate from. I stowed Narcissa away from Bellatrix so thoroughly that, as time went by, she developed a strange fascination with her other sister. She didn't know Bellatrix as I did; a cold, unfeeling, manipulative little girl who knew far too much about how to destroy beautiful things for someone her age. Narcissa saw only a frighteningly lovely and mysterious slip of a woman, and it mesmerized her. Bellatrix knew this, and deliberately paid no attention to it, which only incited more curiosity in my impressionable youngest sister. Bella aroused Narcissa's curiosity so greatly that I had to watch them both non-stop in order to keep them from each other.

I remember the day when I knew I'd lost Narcissa with far too much clarity for my own liking. I was seventeen years old, and in my final year at Beauxbatons (my parents had sent both Bellatrix and myself to France for our schooling, I've never been sure why). It was the Christmas holidays, and we had all gone to my aunt and uncle's house at 12 Grimmauld place. My cousin Sirius, who'd always been a special favorite of mine, was in his fourth year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and in Gryffindor house, much to the entire family's chagrin. His parents had given him nothing but grief since he'd been sorted into the house in his first year, and he was finally at the breaking point, so sick was he of our family's stifling closed-mindedness. I took it upon myself to comfort him.

"I don't think it's so bad," I said as I rubbed his back in circles. I could tell that my little cousin was trying very hard not to cry. Poor Sirius. I knew what it was like to be the black sheep of the family (so to speak), and he never had been as good at hiding his feelings as I was.

"It's not fair," He said sullenly. "I've finally found a place where I feel like I belong, and they have to go and ruin it." I shook my head, angry at my family for making things so difficult. I tried my best to smile down at my little cousin, now almost as big as me. He really was turning into a fine young man, regardless of what he'd had to suffer through with our family constantly badgering him. It gave me some hope, at least, for Narcissa and myself.

"Hey," I said, lifting his chin with my index finger. "_Nobody_ can ruin this for you if you don't let them. Just don't listen." Sirius tilted his head to the side.

"I can't help it, 'Meda, they're _always_ talking about it. I didn't even do anything wrong." I put my arm around my cousin, frowning and turning my face away so he wouldn't see me getting upset. I'd made a decision a while before the holidays had started, and this had only strengthened my resolve. I had to leave. I had to. I couldn't stand this family anymore. Couldn't stand seeing innocent children get hurt, couldn't stand being a part of it. I would take Narcissa and run away, go somewhere where nobody would find us, where no one cared about the Black family name or purebloods or Dark Lords. I was of age now… I could do it.

"Don't worry, Siri," I said, trying my best to keep my voice from shaking. "I'm on your side, at least. And that's a start. It'll only be a few years until you're old enough to look after yourself. It gets easier." I was lying through my teeth. It hadn't gotten easier for me. In fact, it had gotten harder. But there was no sense in worrying my little cousin about that now.

After I'd managed to make Sirius feel a little better, I went for a walk around the house. It was only a few minutes before I realized that I hadn't seen Narcissa for hours. Come to think of it, Bellatrix was also missing. I felt the pit of my stomach drop away. At the end of the hall, one of my aunt and uncle's house elves was staring lovingly at a portrait of my aunt. I struggled to remember the elf's name, and when I had it, I called out to him. "Kreacher!"

The elf whipped around to face me, a guilty expression on his face. "Miss Andromeda has frightened Kreacher," He said in a high-pitched voice. I rolled my eyes.

"Never mind that," I said, adopting the cold Black air that I had learned through observation. "Where are my sisters?"

"Kreacher saw them in the living room," the elf replied, and I felt a chill run through me at the almost defiant expression on his face. _He knows something I don't_, I thought suddenly, and without another word I turned and ran in the direction of the living room.

I froze in the doorway, the sight in front of me chilling every ounce of blood in my veins. Bellatrix was sitting on the sofa, her back to me, and Narcissa was seating on the ground in front of her. Bellatrix had her hands twisted in our younger sister's hair, and was twisting the white-blond curls up on top of the little girl's head. "We have to make ourselves as beautiful as we possibly can, Narcissa," Bellatrix was whispering. "With beauty like yours, there really isn't anything you _can't_ do. A beautiful woman is more powerful than any man. And you and I, Narcissa, we're beautiful women." Bellatrix pinned another curl into place.

"Andromeda's beautiful too," Narcissa said sweetly. I saw Bellatrix's back stiffen at my name, but then she relaxed again.

"Yes," She replied slowly. 'Yes, she is, I suppose. But not like _us_." And then came the part I remember with the most clarity. Bellatrix turned her head and looked over her shoulder at me, the ghost of a malevolent smile on her face. For a moment I stared at her, and then I turned on my heel and ran from the doorway, a sudden, inexplicable fear pounding through every part of me. Bellatrix not only made me uneasy now; she frightened me. I was terrified of my sister.

I left that night.

Alone.


	2. Bellatrix: Part the first

An: Oh my brothers and only friends, now the real horror show begins. Part 2- Bellatrix 

I.

"I won't, I won't!" I slap my mother's hands away and throw the offending item of clothing that she has thrust upon me onto the floor. "You can't force me!" My mother sighs impatiently.

"Bellatrix Adrasteia Black, you will pick up that dress, put it on, and meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes, at which time we will get in the carriage and go to visit with Borislav and Agrona." My mother starts to turn away, and then thinks better of it, facing me again with an unflinching look in her eyes. "And you will be the very picture of a well behaved, proper young lady. The Lestranges are very important and powerful friends of this family, and if we play our cards right, who knows what it may mean for us."

I scowl. "I don't care. Lucius has invited me to the manor for tea, and I _will_ be going."

"You see enough of Lucius Malfoy at those meetings of yours to cover a hundred teas," My mother says, clearly losing her patience. "If we finish our business with the Lestranges, you may visit Lucius afterwards. But you _are_ coming with me." I open my mouth to protest only to stop cold when my mother raises her wand and points in straight at my heart. "Don't test me, Bellatrix."

I am regrettably unarmed, and know full well that I am incapable of dueling my own mother even if I did have my wand within reach, so I utter an irritated growl and bend to pick up the dress my mother has chosen for me. "You could have at least let me chose my own clothing," I mutter, starting off down the hall.

"There's a good girl," my mother calls after me, and I narrow my eyes. I _do not_ intend to waste this afternoon, which I could be spending with friends, sitting in a garden with my mother's high-society acquaintances, waxing intelligent about 18th century Russian literature and the deplorable state of modern civilization. I slam my door with as much strength as I can muster and fling the dress on the bed, staring at it angrily. It probably won't even fit me properly. I am peeling off my overdress when I hear her.

"I'm sure it won't be so bad." My heart leaps into my throat, but years of careful self-training have taught me not to react, even when shocked out of my skin.

"Narcissa," I say calmly, "What are you doing in my room?"

"Waiting for you," She replies, sitting cross-legged on the bed, her pale green dress riding up her bare thighs. "I heard you fighting with mother, and I knew you'd be in here soon." She smiles innocently. "It could be worse, you know. She could be forcing you to visit the Snapes. The Lestranges… they're not so terrible. They've been over here a few times, when you were at your meetings. They seem nice enough." I turned to face my sister, hands on hips, wearing nothing but my slip, and rolled my eyes.

"Narcissa, _please_. They're just like every other one of mother's friends… boring. Why can't she take you for a change, or go alone?"

Narcissa looked down at her lap and chewed at her thumbnail. "I wish she would," She said quietly, and then looked up at me. "Just once… I think I'd like to have a reason to dress up and act nicely."

"You always look lovely, darling," I say, stroking her white-blonde head. "You don't _need_ a reason. Neither of us does." I stamp my foot suddenly, and she jumps beneath my hand. "Which is precisely why I shouldn't have to go!" I hold out the dress impatiently. "Help me?"

Narcissa obediently gets up and holds the dress up, and I step into it, turning to allow her to do up the back for me. "Shall I pull tighter?" she asks as she laces me in. I nod, taking another deep breath.

"Damn it," I say when she's finished. "I can hardly breath." I turn to face her. "Well?"

Narcissa's gray eyes are wide, and her mouth hangs slightly open. "Bella," She breathes, "You look positively exquisite." I raise an eyebrow. "No," she says, still staring. "Really." I turn towards the mirror, and cock my head.

"Well," I say after a minute of deliberation. "It looks as if she's actually found a nice one this time." I will not say it out loud, but it is by far one of the nicest dresses I've ever put on, and I look stunning in it. It is black, naturally, the one thing I love that my mother seems to endorse whole-heartedly. Almost my entire closet is black; it's the best color for me. Unlike Narcissa, who can wear lovely, fresh pastel colors, I look best in darks; Black, navy, crimson, aubergine. I rake my hair over my shoulders with my fingers and straighten out my bangs, then give an approving nod. "Fine," I say, sighing. "I am ready." Narcissa lays a hand on my arm.

"You really do look splendid," She says, kissing me sweetly on the cheek. "I hope it's not too much trouble."

I shake my head. "It will be. But at least I only have to be there for the afternoon. Then I can go about my business… mother said."

"And will you be home late?" I can't ignore that hopeful, innocent look in her eyes. I shake my head again and brush my fingers over her collarbone, eliciting a shudder from her tiny frame.

"No. I'll be back before you're abed."

"Promise?"

"I promise." We look at each other silently, unsmiling.

"BELLATRIX!" I roll my eyes at my mother's call.

"Coming, alright?" I yell back, grabbing my clutch and my gloves and starting for the door. "See you later," I say, smiling slightly. Narcissa nods.

"Have fun." I laugh humorlessly.

"Highly doubtful."

I drum my fingers idly on the tabletop, a practiced sneer shaping my darkly painted lips, and take a sip of the fine Bordeaux the Lestranges are pumping us full of. This is shaping up to be a fine waste of an afternoon. I watch my mother with barely concealed contempt, letting the fine crystal wine glass hang over the arm of my chair, cradled lazily in my palm. She is very happy, _excessively_ happy, to the point of being fake. The Lestranges, surely, have noticed this. And yet… They all seem to be blissfully oblivious to their own obvious ridiculousness. I hear my mother gushing my name, and I lift and eyebrow, making sure to arch it just so, so that I can be sure of my cool, uncaring air while responding. Every tiny moment, every little twitch of muscle is calculated. I am completely, utterly in control of myself, and I want to be sure that these people know it.

"… Naturally, she's vehement about the issue, isn't that so, Bellatrix?" My only reply is a wry smile. A small tilt of the head. Truth be told, I don't even know what I'm agreeing to, I was hardly listening to the conversation before I was so rudely jostled into it. No matter… if I'm in disagreement with the subject, I can make myself heard later.

"Well, in my opinion," says Borislav, reclining in his chair almost exactly as I am, "we should _all_ be paying more attention to the situation. It's _very _important, don't you agree, Agrona?" Mrs. Lestrange looks as if she has a bitter taste in her mouth.

"You know I do," she says in a delicate voice. "There was a time, not that I remember it well, when pureblood families were the only ones that mattered except when it came to cleaning the floors or doing the laundry. _They_ were our servants, not our equals, and now we've all been brought down to that level. Commoners." She looks as if she very badly wants to spit. "They'll tell you that the common wizard has been elevated to our level, but we're know the truth. That even thought they may drag us down, we'll _never_ truly be on their level. Blood does not lie."

My eyebrow begins to creep a tiny bit higher against my will. This woman is passionate, and her head is in a reasonably good place. I find myself, against all odds, liking Agrona Lestrange, even though I consciously will myself not to.

"There are those who would agree with you." The Lestranges start at the sound of my voice, as if they hadn't realized that I had one. I allow a corner of my mouth to twitch upwards slightly. "There are also those who would stone you to death if they heard you speak so openly about the subject in public." My slight smile vanishes. "You ought to be careful."

"Bellatrix!" My mother's harsh hiss does not faze me.

Nor does it Mrs. Lestrange, apparently, for she looks me straight in the eye and says, "And which one are you?"

"Hard to tell, isn't it?" I say enigmatically, my hand hovering over a wasp that has alighted on the clear glass of the tabletop. "But there are always signs…" I bring one manicured finger down on top of the tiny creature, deftly separating its abdomen from the top half of its body. "Do you know yet?"

Mrs. Lestrange gives me a slight smile, while her husband and my mother look on in utter bafflement. The two of us have just shared something that neither of them was a part of, and it irks them but they are powerless to do or even say anything about it.

The sound of plodding hooves startles us all out of our silence, and Mrs. Lestrange cranes her neck, her face breaking out in a doting smile. "Ah… here he is!" She says, delighted. "Rodolphus!" She says loudly, half-standing and waving broadly. I look coolly in the direction of the rider, watching as he performs an elaborate yet graceful dismount and starts toward our shaded table, measuring each self-assured stride with the wide swing of his riding crop.

The rider stops in front of us and nods curtly to the Lestranges. He is tall and dark, like me, and solidly built all muscle and sinew. A slick, sly body. His hair is black like mine, but while mine is further towards blue, his is closer to brown; a deep, almost red tone shining through, like black blood. He has a wide, square jaw and prominent cheekbones, and his face is broad and calculatingly handsome. I know all too well that beauty this flawless cannot be trusted.

"Rodolphus, darling, this is Elladora Black, and her Daughter--"

"Bellatrix," I say, abruptly cutting Agrona off. I don't extend my hand. Rodolphus, damn him, ignores me completely, opting instead to take my mothers hand and kiss it lightly.

"A pleasure," He says, and then he swivels slightly and fixes me with a piercing look and a sharp nod. There is something strange about is voice, and something even stranger in his eyes, but I can't for the life of me figure out what it may be.

"We were having quite an interesting discussion when you rode up," Mrs. Lestrange says a little too enthusiastically. "Bellatrix was just sharing her views on the merits of being a pureblooded family."

"Fascinating," Rodolphus says absently, clearly not fascinated. "If you don't mind, Sycorax is tired form the ride. I have to bring her back to the stables now, so I'd best be going." Agrona is obviously displeased with this poor excuse to beg off from our company.

"Surely you can stay and talk for a while?" Rodolphus shakes his head.

"I'm afraid not, Mother. There's work to be done." He turns on his heel and starts away. I am trying very hard not to watch his retreating back when he speaks again. "Bellatrix," He calls, and I almost rise to my feet; almost, but not quite. "You might want to come along."

Not a request or a plea, almost as if he's giving me advice. As if he think it would be good for me. I find myself growing angry; what does he know about what's good for me? Surely nothing… we've not said a single word to each other, save for this would-be command to follow him. I shouldn't. I won't. I get up from my chair and start after him silently.

"Here, Girl," Rodolphus says, and I nearly freeze in my tracks, ready to draw my wand and curse him into next Tuesday. That is, until his horse trots amiably past me and to his side. The tiny muscle beneath my eye twitches slightly, the only thing I've never been able to control with any certainty, and I continue to follow. The conversation from the patio begins to fade as the stables come into view.

"I think you were not comfortable with them." His awkward English make me realize what's odd about his voice; he speaks with a slight Russian accent. I decide not to mention it. I can control my curiosity until the timing suits me better.

"Why is my comfort any concern of yours?" He laughs deeply at me and pulls on the horse's reins, guiding her into the stable. I follow them.

"So contrary, Ms. Black. One would think you were _trying_ to be obtuse."

"I was." I see no point in attempting to conceal this truth from someone who is obviously an intellectual and strategic match in this sort of conversation. I can tell simply by the few sentences he's already spoken that it will be a welcome challenge, matching wits with this man.

"Ah," Rodolphus says, almost jovially. "She speaks. O, speak again, bright angel!" He laughs scornfully.

"You think that I'm going to be intimidated by the fact that you can sarcastically quote Shakespeare?"

"Was that a shred of intelligence I detected?" Rodolphus asks snidely. I narrow my eyes dangerously and precisely.

"Don't cross me, Lestrange. I'm warning you--"

Within a split second he has my wrists pinned to the wall of the stable. Beside us, Sycorax paws nervously at the straw on the ground. "Do not threaten me, Miss Black," He says softly, his words dripping poison. "I can be very good to you, very good _for_ you. But never make the mistake of threatening a Lestrange."

I am, for perhaps the first time in my existence, speechless. No one, and I mean that without exaggeration, has _ever_ manhandled me quite in such a sudden and vicious manner. And no one has ever been quite so forward as to suggest that they would be _good for me_. I am appalled, and, to my great horror, delighted. Lestrange, for whatever strange, twisted reason, has managed to capture my attention completely. I am hanging on his next words, and I am half-disappointed when he shifts his weight away from me, giving me a perfect opportunity to throw him off, should I so choose. I know I have no choice but to do so… dignity demands it. But I've hesitated. And he's seen.

"So you already know," He says, no longer threatening. I do not answer; I have no idea what he's referring to, and I would rather remain mute than ask him to explain anything to me. "You know I'm right." He leans into me again, but this time his hands on my wrists are not harsh. I am still pinned beneath his grasp, yes, but now he treats my wrists and hands like a precious commodity. He leans his head towards mine and breathes in my ear. I do not shudder. I won't give him that until I have it from him first. "We will shock," He says, his lips brushing my earlobe, "Electrify," a tiny nip to the skin on my neck, "And set fire to this world." As he moves to kiss my collarbone, I twist my hands so that they cover his, and he releases me.

"And you will be the first to combust," I say, pulling his arms down and throwing myself forward until my entire body meets with his. He is tall, but so am I; our heads are almost the same height. I lean forward as he did and turn him forcefully around, so that this time, _he_ is the one pinned to the wall. I crane my neck and roughly tug at his earlobe with my teeth. "Does it burn?" I whisper, and am rewarded with a satisfying shiver. "I am not about to be dominated," I say quickly, well aware that that is exactly what I am. What we _both_ are. How unexpected.

"I am not opposed to submission," He says, a slight smile on his very handsome face. "There are things worth submitting to."

I smile wickedly. "You learn quickly, and well."

"But do you?"

_I did not return to Narcissa before she turned in that night, as promised, nor did I keep my vow to spend the afternoon with Lucius. From the moment he rode up the path on, there was but one person who was ever-present in my thoughts, and that was Rodolphus. It did not matter who I was with or what I was doing; there he was, always, in the back of my mind, a painful and beautiful spear prodding at my gray matter. I had fallen madly, deeply, and inexplicably in love with him, and so had he fallen for me. In a space of mere minutes he'd managed to claim me in a million ways that I'd never been claimed before. I had never felt passion so sudden or forceful or real with any of my lovers before, and I most likely never will again. It was a frightening, consuming passion, so much more than the simple pleasure of domination, of control that all of my previous physical encounters had brought. And most of all, the yearning, the need to alight the same passion in him, and the inexplicable beauty of giving him that gift. It was a joy I knew not of, one that would never be forgotten. It was perfect. _

_ Except for two small things._

_ Lucius and Narcissa. How I've come to loathe their names, especially when in conjunction with each other. If Rodolphus was the pleasurably stinging spear in my mind and heart, Lucius and Narcissa were the irritatingly prickly thorns in my side. Two needy, dependant emotional weaklings, and both of them completely, obsessively enthralled with me. Once, I enjoyed stringing them along, feigning interest in every little thing they had to say. But after my first encounter with Rodolphus, I could barely stand the thought of another pair of hands caressing me like his did (a compulsive habit I would shed soon enough). _

_ With Narcissa, it was easy. She knew, of course, about Rodolphus; what with my mother raving about what a brilliant match we were, how could anyone in our household have ignored it? Mother was walking on air for weeks. She had never liked the Malfoys much, Lucius included, and was happy to see my attention pointed in a different direction than Malfoy Manor. Narcissa, of course, never knew about Lucius, not in any way that mattered, she only knew that I had begun to see Rodolphus Lestrange, and that the whole family had high hopes for the future of our relationship, especially after the train-wreck wedding of the century: my ridiculous older sister's elopement with some muggle fool and the disownment that followed. Narcissa was crushed. _

_ I no longer needed her, but once you've owned something, dominated it completely, and for an extended period, it becomes a relentless, aching part of you. And so it was with my younger sister. Once I convinced myself to continue my entrapment of Narcissa, it was almost too easy to reassure her of my faithfulness to her. She was my blood, I would tell her, Her heart and mine were made of the same flesh, the same cells. How could some man, with his strange, foreign, outsider blood come in and take that from us? It was impossible. We would always belong to each other. Narcissa was always so trusting of me._

_ Lucius, on the other hand, proved to be more difficult. From the beginning I was less involved with him than I ever was with Narcissa, and that made him all the more simple to dispose of. Or so I thought._

_ Unfortunately, the human heart is a strange and vicious thing, and Lucius Malfoy had one of the strangest and most vicious hearts I've ever encountered._


	3. Bellatrix: Part the Second

A/N: Okay, okay… more than a year, yadda yadda… I know. I don't know what happened. But here's a new chapter. It's actually the first half of what I wrote… it was WAY too long. I harbor no delusions that anyone will remember this fic exists… but maybe it will be rediscovered and revived. One can dream.

Warnings: Blackcest/slash and death eaters in love. You've been warned.

Have fun!

**Part 2: Bellatrix ii**

"Is it true?"

I do not move to hide my hand or my disgust. I let both of them show plainly, my loathing shining as clearly as the single diamond on my engagement ring. Neither his opinions nor his feelings matter even slightly to me now. "I am not having this discussion with you, Lucius."

On any normal day, before Rodolphus came into the picture, Lucius would have backed down immediately had I used that tone and those words. But today I can see that it will not work. Lucius is in an absolute fury. I can tell because he is perfectly still. Not a single muscle twitching. Not even his eyes move, except to follow me. The calm before a particularly bad storm.

I don't want this confrontation. Not now, and not here, of all places. For the halls of our Lord to be sullied with Lucius' petty jealousy is unthinkable.

"Tell me, Bellatrix. Is it true?"

"What, exactly, do you hope to achieve by having this discussion, Lucius?" I put all the bitterness I can muster behind the words. Let a man down gently and he'll keep coming back for another lashing. Let him down hard and he'll hate you forever, but you'll at least be rid of him. "Do you expect me to lie? To tell you it's not true, that I'm not betrothed, that it was all a horrible dream? Do you want me to cradle your head in my arms, stroke your hair and make it all better?" I glare snidely. "I won't do it, Lucius. What have I ever done to indicate that you should expect that of me?"

Lucius is again silent, this time only for a moment. "You are _supposed_ to be mine," He says coldly. "Everybody knows that. Even our Lord has acknowledged that we would be a perfect pair. He told me once that you were the only woman worthy of me." He takes a step towards me. I do not recoil, but god, how I want to. "Do you betray your Lord, as well as me, Bella?"

"No." A cold fury rises in my chest at his words. How dare he suggest that I would ever, _ever_ turn from the path my Lord has chosen from me? There are very few things in this life that I am passionate about. My Lord is one of them. I would follow him to the ends of the earth and back, and there is little doubt that I will. If he came to me and told me to marry Lucius, I would do it, and without a moment's hesitation. I take a moment to calm myself, and then speak again. "You know that I have always done exactly as he's told me to. I have never once strayed from his path, and I never will. For you to doubt that just proves what he has told me." I stare him down. This is going to hurt him, break him. "I _am _the only woman worthy of you, Lucius. But that is not the matter in question. The matter in question is, are _you_ worthy of _me_?" I pause, still staring as hard as I possibly can. "And you're not."

He recoils in horror and shock, knowing that I wouldn't have used this argument if I didn't have the words of our Lord behind me. It takes him all of two seconds to compose himself again, but the damage has already been done. I've seen his hopelessness, his despair. He fixes a shielding glare over his wounded face. "How can _he_ possibly be, then?" a slow sneer begins to form on his face. "You _know_ he's not. He's not even one of us!" I can tell by the sudden look of triumph on his face that this new idea has got him convinced of his victory over Rodolphus. I shake my head.

"Not yet," I say coldly. "But he will be." I enjoy watching his face fall. "The Dark Lord is initiating him now."

This is the final straw for Lucius. He fury breaks onto his face in full bloom. "That can't happen!" He yells, overturning one of the ornate wooden side tables that line the hall. It splinters into thousands of shards of wood and scatters all over the floor. "This is _my_ life! He has no right, NO RIGHT, to steal it from me!" He turns on me. "You _will not_ marry this man." There is poison in his words, and for once even I feel the sting of it.

"Yes I will," I say, calm and unruffled by his childish display. I am ashamed for him, ashamed of him, but most of all ashamed that this man, this impetuous, whining little man, thought that I would ever be his. "I will marry Rodolphus in ten days time, and I will do it happily, with our Lord's consent." I again glare pointedly at him, and it stills him. I still have far too much power over this weakling of a man. "I am the Queen of this hive," I say slowly and deliberately. "And whoever marries me is King, next to our Lord, who is already very pleased to be receiving such a passionate and dedicated servant." My voice takes on a mocking tone. "Whatever made you think that you could have any of that? It belongs to me, Lucius, and to my husband." I smile wickedly. "And you will never be my husband."

Lucius looks as though he is about to retaliate, and then something changes in his face, and he turns on his heel to walk away. Half way down the hall, however, he seems to think better of it, and turns back to face me. "This is not over, Bellatrix," he says, and for a moment I feel an almost prophetic chill run down my spine. "Don't ever think it is."

"Run along, Lucius," I say dismissively, and after pausing for a moment, he turns back around and retreats. Only when he is completely out of sight do a reach out a hand to steady myself on the nearest wall. There is no greater surprise than discovering that you are more human than you thought.

oooOOOooo

Rodolphus emerges from the Dark Lord's initiation late in the evening. He looks exhausted, drained. I have never seen him like this. But there is something else, an almost euphoric glow in his eyes. He has been physically broken, but his spirit, his soul has been mended. I rush towards him and cradle his face in my hands.

"It is done," I say, a rare smile breaking onto my face. His expression mirrors mine.

"It is done," He repeats, and then laughs, kissing me lightly. And then his face goes dark for a moment. "So much power," He whispers. "I was angry with you, at first, for not warning me, for not explaining it better. But now I know… there was no way you could have. There aren't words…"

"You think I don't know?" I shake my head and rake at his sweat-drenched hair with my fingernails. "It hurt, to send you to that without warning. But you're right, there _aren't_ words enough to describe his power." I kiss his forehead. "I'm sorry." He grabs my shoulders, a strong, powerful grip.

"Don't ever apologize for this again," He says, almost angrily. "You have given me the greatest gift any person can give. You have helped me pledge my soul to _him_." He drops to his knees and grabs my hips, laying his cheek against my abdomen. "You are my Goddess, Bellatrix. You have given me life."

I gently pry his arms from me and drop to his level. "Then you are my God." I then take his left arm in my hands and pull up his sleeve, reverently tracing our Lord's freshly minted mark with my fingertips. He shudders. I know that I am hurting him, but it is in all the best ways a person can feel pain. "And with him, we will make an unbreakable Trinity." I bring my lips to the mark and kiss it lightly before kissing his lips. We remain there, kneeling in the middle of the empty room, locked in each others arms, for two hours more. Neither one of us notices the cold of the room or the hardness of the stone floors. We've found a salve for all wounds.

oooOOOooo

"You're leaving me." It is the first time my sister has looked at me when I'm dressed to the nines and been able to refrain from gushing. Her gray eyes look like two dark, watery stones dropped into the lightness of her pale face. And she is crying. I shake my head.

"Narcissa," I say, crossing the room to her, "I am _not_ leaving you. I will _never_ leave you. We've been over this, many, many times." I am shocked as she shrugs off my hand on her shoulder and shies away from me.

"I saw you," she says, bringing her eyes up to meets mine. There is clear hostility in them, something I've never seen in her before, not directed at me. "You didn't know I was there, but I saw you. With him." She narrows her eyes. "He's more to you than you said he was, I know he is." She leans in towards me, her entire body tense with hostility. "You think I can't recognize your passion?" Her laughter comes out as a short hiss. "I know you better than you wish to believe, dear sister, but evidently you still know nothing about me." She is hurt and angry. With Lucius, bringing out those feelings had been a minor victory for me, but Narcissa is different. She is a clingy, petulant little pest, but for some reason at this moment it stings to see her hurt.

"I never lied to you, Narcissa," I say softly, mimicking the innocence that I can usually be sure to find in her. "I'm still not lying. He is not like us. Of course I am passionate towards him… you've seen the man. But that's all it is. Politics and Passion. Believe me, Narcissa." I again reach out to caress her face, and this time she does not move away, opting instead to lean into my touch. "And you're wrong, you know," I say as an afterthought. "I know everything about you."

I've hacked at her angry dams with my kindness, and her eyes spill over suddenly. "I wish you didn't have to marry him," she whispers as I wipe at one of her tears. "I wish we could cash in our accounts and move someplace far away. Why do you have to get married off to some man you hardly know and leave me here in this house with mother and father all alone?"

I would never let her know just how well I know Rodolphus, or just how badly I wish to leave this place, but with him, not her. She must not know that today, in marrying him, I am getting everything I've wished for and more. "I must. It's just the way things are." Narcissa is not an idiot; she would be very unlikely to accept this answer from anyone else but me, and yet she has always been easily swayed by my opinions. She nods silently and sadly, and falls forward, throwing her arms around me.

"Bella," She whispers, sobbing, "Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me." I kiss the top of her head gently.

"I've already told you, darling, I never have, and I never will." I hold her face away from my body so that she can see me clearly. "You are mine. Forever." She nods shakily.

"Forever. Always, Bella."

oooOOOooo

_After that, Narcissa was much easier to handle. She was as obedient and trusting as always, waiting sweetly at home while I was with Rodolphus, hardly even aware of her existence save for a tiny prickling in the back of my mind. While she continued to bind herself ever tighter to me, I was loosening myself from my involvement with her, so absorbed was I in the man I was to marry. _

_As for Rodolphus, he was perfect, everything I could have dreamed of and more. An ideal servant of our Lord, a flawless son, brother and fiancé. We were easily accepted into each other's families, with my mother fawning endlessly over Rodolphus and Agrona Lestrange being rather fond of me. Life was at it's most perfect. Everything was going according to my best laid plans. Our marriage would seal things off nicely, our marriage which was to take place as soon as possible. Our Lord and Master had officially sanctioned the union after inducting Rodolphus into his ranks, much to Lucius' fury, and all that remained was the official ceremony. I had only three weeks to wait until my life reached it's most perfect and beautiful point._

_I did not realize then how swift the decline would be once I had taken the summit._


	4. Bellatrix: Part the Third

**A/n: This installment and one more in Bella's part… I really enjoyed writing from her perspective… it is a rare pleasure for me, getting to be so _evil_. Narcissa's installment will be the longest, most likely, and also the most explicit in a number of ways. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

**Continuity note: I've been writing this fic on and off for the past two years, and that means I sometimes forget things when I go back to add stuff. In the last chapter, Bella's wedding went from being ten days away to three weeks away. That was a mistake, and I'll fix it soon. Not now… soon.**

**Enjoy, and please review. I see the hits… make with the comments.**

**-N**

Part 2: Bellatrix iii

"May I kiss the bride?" I turn slowly at the sound of the voice.

"You were not invited," I say coldly. Beside me, Rodolphus chuckles.

"Of course he was." I turn to stare in awe at my new husband, thus far the only person in my life who has the ability to surprise me. "I invited him. And yes, Malfoy, you may." I narrow my eyes at Rodolphus. What kind of game is he playing? I have told him of my exploits with Lucius, in morbid detail, up to and including the latest installment, during my husband's initiation. We have laughed together about the man's uselessness, his pointless infatuation. What is my husband thinking? He gives me a pointed look and tilts his head towards Lucius. I frown and then turn, again face to face with Lucius Malfoy. He leans in and I grant him a quick peck. He does not seem to be searching for more, and I find myself wondering why. Lucius Malfoy has _never_ been able to resist me.

"Lucius is one of many brothers and sisters in our great order," Rodolphus says magnanimously. "How could I even consider denying him the privilege of witnessing our vows." It hits me suddenly that Rodolphus has realized what torture it must be for Lucius to be present at our wedding, and in that moment I love my husband even more. Such a brilliant and diabolical mind. Lucius extends his hand to Rodolphus, who takes it confidently.

"Brothers," Lucius says firmly. "I couldn't have said it better myself. Let us be one family from now on, Lestranges, Blacks and Malfoys." Rodolphus shakes heartily, and I can tell that he has lost control of the ship; he does not know what Lucius is doing. For that matter, neither do I. This worries me. This worries me greatly.

"Bella," Lucius says, using the friendly diminutive with ease. I am not fooled. His anger with me has not been dissolved, and I do not know what it is that he's doing, but I intend to remain alert. I do not trust him. "Your sister—Narcissa, is it?—I was not aware that she was such a stunning young woman. She looks quite grown up. In a few years she'll be almost as beautiful as her older sister."

I am taken aback by his mindless banter. I've known Lucius to be moody, petulant, and petty, but I've never seen him act like this much of a simpering fool before. And I don't appreciate his talk about my sister. I don't even appreciate the idea of him noticing her at all. "She is seventeen years old," I say warningly. "Hardly a stunning young woman yet." Lucius shrugs.

"We shall see." He nods at both of us. "Best of luck," He says before walking away. I turn to Rodolphus. He is scowling openly.

"I thought it would have amusing results," He says quietly. "I didn't expect him to be so…"

"Baffling," I finish, mimicking his frown. He nods.

"I may have made a mistake."

oooOOOooo

It is three months after the wedding when we realize exactly what Rodolphus' mistake was. During our obligatory monthly visit to my parents' estate, Lucius' plan for revenge is brought to light with a most startling degree of clarity. About an hour into our afternoon visit, my mother pulls me aside.

"What is your opinion of Lucius Malfoy?" She asks in a hushed tone. I sniff and roll my eyes.

"Mother, please," I say derisively. "Lucius Malfoy no longer exists to me."

"That is what I thought you would say," She says thoughtfully. "Well, you know I never liked the Malfoys. I was always wary of your spending time with that boy. However…"

I look at her sharply. "What? What is this, Mother, this sudden interest in Lucius?" She scrunches up her face in an appallingly hideous manner and leans in closer to me.

"Bellatrix," She says conspiratorially, "Lucius Malfoy is vying for your sister's hand in marriage."

For a moment I am stunned into silence. "Absolutely not!" I say firmly, when my voice returns to me.

"That is what we told him," My mother replies. "But he wouldn't take no for an answer. He has been sending formal letters to your father and I, peppering us with compliments and gifts for Narcissa. It seems he's rather smitten with her." She looks almost pleased, and I want nothing more than to throttle her. I've already figured it out. It's not Narcissa that Lucius is trying to get at; it's me. He's trying to take a stab at me for turning on him, for marrying Rodolphus, and for making sure he had a front row seat through the whole ordeal. He's out for blood. It is a plan that, were I ever pathetic enough to be in his position, I would have thought of myself, and I am furious that I have not seen it coming. How could I allow Lucius Malfoy, of all people, to blindside me like this?

"Of course he's smitten with her," I say contemptuously, "He like pretty things, and Narcissa is a pretty thing. Leave him be, he'll tire of her." I know better, but it can't hurt to have my mother refusing his requests to marry Narcissa.

"Well now, that may not be quite so relevant." I again turn a sharp glare on my mother. "You see, I've given this matter a great deal of thought. With you married to Rodolphus, we have managed to forge a very strong alliance to one of the few pureblood families left. The Lestranges are prominent and powerful. But the Malfoys…" She narrows her eyes in delight. "They are a whole different league. With you as a Lestrange and Narcissa as a Malfoy, our family will once again be one of the more powerful in the wizarding world. Just think… the Blacks, the Malfoys and the Lestranges, united as one." She gives me a shadowed grin. "Bellatrix, we could rule."

I shake my head. "No. You can't let her marry him." My mother shrugs.

"I don't see how it's any of your concern."

"Then why in the name of the D—why in God's name would you tell me?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't be dramatic, Bellatrix. It's not as though I'm giving away something that's yours. I'm simply allowing a very powerful man the right to your sister's hand. I only told you because you know both Lucius and Narcissa the b—where are you going?"

But I am in too much of a hurry to be bothered answering her. I almost run down the hall. I have to see Narcissa.

Her door is locked when I get there, and so I pound on it, screaming at her. "Let me in, I know you're there. The door only locks from the inside. Open the door, Narcissa." The door flies open faster than I had expected it to, and she's standing there in its place. For a moment I have to restrain myself from pounding her like I did the door. And then I do it anyway, one loud, hard slap right across the cheek. Narcissa barely flinches.

"Hello, darling sister," She says, oozing the same sardonic charm that I have practiced to perfection. "How nice to see you again."

"You didn't even tell me!" I shriek, pushing her into the room and slamming the door behind me. "How could you keep this from me?"

She glares back at me, her gray eyes steel. "What with all you've kept from me, I've decided to even the score."

I bite back my furious words, knowing that my anger will incense her but my understanding will make her feel guilty and ashamed. "I keep nothing from you," I say, allowing a hint of sadness into my voice to mask the cold fury. "I thought it was mutual."

"It was," She says.

"What happened?" I try my best to sound desperate, and to tell the truth, I am, just a little. Desperate not to lose control again, of myself and of her. She shrugs, still hostile. "He's not good enough for you," I say, bringing a hand up to her face. To my shock, she turns her face away.

"He was good enough for you."

I feel the hard rage rising in me again. "He was _never_ good enough for me. There was only ever one person who was good enough for me, and that person was my heart, my soul, my blood." I have not lied to her; Rodolphus is my life and everything in it. But I know she will not hear it that way. I watch her carefully, and I can pinpoint the exact moment when her guilt rises up to hit her. Her face crumples, and her shoulders slump in an oh-so-familiar way.

"Oh God," She whispers, horrified. "You're right. I can't. I can't marry him." I stand there, cold and unmoving, for a moment more before opening my arms to her. She stumbles towards me and into them, and a sob tears loose from her throat. "Bella, help me."

"I can't, lovely," I say, petting her hair. "You know I can't. I've never been able to change mother's mind. And as for Lucius…" I pause, unable for a moment to form words around my disgust, "He will not change his mind. And because of your stubbornness, everything is probably arranged already." Another sob.

"I didn't mean to be stubborn," She says through her tears. "Only, I was so angry with you…"

"That is no reason to marry," I say firmly. "Marry out of strategy, not out of anger." She is still sobbing weakly into my chest. I half-heartedly pat her on the back. "Every mistake is a lesson, Narcissa."

"Much good may it do me now." The bitter tone is back, but this time it is not directed at me. "What do I do? If I marry him, I'll _never_ be rid of him!"

I hold her at arm's length. "Darling, don't worry. You leave everything to me." I will crush Lucius for this. He cannot win against me… he should know that by now.

oooOOOooo

_And so it was that Lucius and Narcissa were married almost immediately after her graduation from Hogwarts. By the next time I saw her after the wedding, she was already pregnant with his child. It gave a sort of glow that I'd never seen in her before, and it made me furious. Lucius knew this, and so he made a point of parading her around in front of me as often as he could. Proud as a bloody peacock he was, and twice as irritating. At every chance during our down time at the Dark Lord's estate, he would go on and on about being the first Deatheater of our level to provide our Lord with a suitable pledge; the soul of his unborn child, the perfect offering for our master. And then he'd stare pointedly at my husband and I, eyeing my firm, flat belly. He always fell short of making emasculating comments about Rodolphus, and the two of them actually managed to keep up a horribly fake friendly veneer, but I knew that he felt that either my husband or I was unable to reproduce, and thus considered himself to be a notch higher than us in the chain. We never told him that we purposely chose not to bring a child into the world; we were free, and we had each other. A child would slow us down in both our work and our love. Although we both would have liked to have a child we could promise to the Dark Lord as a lifelong servant, neither one of us could see raising one until they were old enough to serve him, and so we chose to remain childless. _

_Narcissa gave birth on a gray March morning to a child whose eyes perfectly matched the sky outside the hospital window. He was fair, like both of his parents, and beautiful, almost immaculate. Lucius named the boy Draco, an idiotic name if I've ever heard one. The child was nothing like a dragon, he was beautiful and light, like a star. Our family is rife with star names. But I suppose the Malfoys are a bunch symbol-happy idiots. So Draco it was. _

_Rodolphus and I quickly climbed to the very top of our Lord's ranks. We had the deadliest aim, and the cruelest hands, and working with each other, we never failed. Lucius always fought almost at our sides, just a step behind. He was of some worth; he could hold a steady curse for hours and not break a sweat, and his aim was nearly as precise as my husband's and mine. Rodolphus had long since breached the Dark Lord's inner circle, and was now almost as well-loved by our master as I was. There were four of us; Malfoy, our indispensable Potions Master Severus Snape, Rodolphus, and myself, and together, we were the strongest and best of all the Dark Lord's followers. Others would occasionally enter into the inner circle, including Rodolphus' younger brother Rabastan, a promising child who would have followed my husband off the edge of the planet, and applied that same love to the Dark Lord. But despite the others, the four of us were the indisputable favorites. We had a solid routine worked out; Severus would poison our target through injection, ingestion or some sort of topical absorption, and while the poison was taking effect Lucius would bind them while Rodolphus and I sent a steady barrage of torturous curses at them. Sometimes we would change up positions, but we mostly stuck to what we were best at; Snape enjoyed watching the effects his potions had, Malfoy like experimenting with different ways of binding the captive, pulling ropes or chains tighter, watching them squirm beneath his power. Rodolphus and I had the curses with the most sting, and it became like a game, seeing who could make them scream the loudest or writhe the most. It is impossible to say which one of us won most often, but we both enjoyed it anyhow. _

_It was only in times like these that I had any sort of respect for Lucius Malfoy. He was good at what he did, and what's more, he enjoyed it thoroughly. That was what made the difference between us and the other death eaters. They all had moments where they became disgusted at themselves for the things they did. We never got anything but pleasure from it. He was Malfoy at those times, and it was not Malfoy that I hated. It was Lucius who plagued my existence, my whiny, petulant former lover, my snide, boisterous brother-in-law. Malfoy was my extremely competent co-worker, and I could not begrudge him that small bit of respect. _

_I suppose Rodolphus and I always knew that Lucius had something big in store for us, but after a while that began to fade into the background. We did our work with skill and efficiency, and none of us could complain about the others. We never saw each other outside of our late-night missions, and so we never had any reason for outright hostility. Rodolphus and I remained ensnared in our passion for each other, and Lucius was simply a shadow in the past, gently fading into the gray that was the world outside of the two of us. _

_And that, eventually, was what made it all the more shocking._


End file.
